


honeymoon avenue

by dreamtowns



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe – Reincarnation, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I just [clenches fist] want them to be happy, Identity Reveal, LGBTQ Themes, Light Angst, M/M, Social Media, cute tropes, famous au, im doing my version of reincarnation and famous au and there’s nothing yall say that will stop me, very self-indulgent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-10-26 15:00:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17748077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamtowns/pseuds/dreamtowns
Summary: Prompto could pinpoint the exact moment Noctis realized who he was. He could talk about the way Noctis’s eyes widened, the way his expression melted to reveal a maelstrom of hope and love and a mix of emotions, both negative and light, that correctly mirrored Prompto’s own emotional state. Hell, Prompto could even ponder on the words that escaped Noctis’s mouth as he moved forward, a desperate, aching cry that belonged to that of a dying soldier.But what Prompto did know was this: Noctis all-but tackled him to the ground, the grass wet underneath them due to the morning rain shower, face pressed against the curve of his neck, gasping his name like a man deprived. Prompto’s laugh floated in the air as he moved them upright, curled one hand in Noctis’s hair, and laced their fingers together with the other, and whispered a greeting that made them both spiral into half-sobs, half-laughs:“I’m home, Noct.”





	1. i. i want you for a lifetime

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [if this is fate then we'll find a way to cheat](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14081637) by [taizi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taizi/pseuds/taizi). 



> I do not own Final Fantasy XV. All rights reserved to its’ creator, Square Enix. No copyright infringement intended. No money is being made from this work. This is purely for entertainment purposes.
> 
> This isn’t Beta’d, so I’m sorry for any mistakes! Also, social media sites are the same as they are in reality, as I didn’t feel like making up new terminology lol.

_so if you’re gonna think twice, baby_  
_i don’t wanna know, baby_

don’t think twice – utada hikaru

* * *

 

 

“Listen, I don’t know what you’re taking kid, but you’re on a roll.”

“I’m not taking anything,” said Prompto.

“Good. Plausible deniability. I like that,” Vyv replied, more concentrated on the portfolio in front of him. “Anyway, this looks amazing. Probably your best work yet, you know?”

The ceiling fan creaked a little as it rotated. Although it was below 60 degrees in Vyv’s office, he still fanned himself with some brochure about the idyllic beach scene near Cape Caem. The sight of it made Prompto feel a little nostalgic.

His lips twitched as he thought _so was every assignment I did._ To his boss, however, he said, “Thank you. Do you have another assignment for me?”

“Just some small ones right now,” Vyv replied and pressed a slip of paper into his hands. It was a schedule of scattered appointments and information. “Schools’ starting back up, so I got some requests for those first day photo shoots. Think you can handle that?”

Prompto almost snorted. “Yeah, I got it.”

“Sweet,” said Vyv, and the man grinned. “Good luck on that collection you’re working on.”

“Thanks,” Prompto smiled. “There’s still a few pieces missing, though.”

Vyv waved his hand in the air dismissively. “Ah, you’ll figure it out. Anyway, skedaddle, I know you have class.”

Prompto laughed and grabbed his bag. As he reached the door to Vyv’s office, he turned and waved. “See ya, boss!”

“Later, brat.”

Looking at their office, one wouldn’t think Meteor Company Pictures would be the most influential agency, for pictures, photoshoots, journalists, and all those involved, in Insomnia. They were stationed in a quaint, homey two-story building that was squished between a flower shop and a mom-and-pop diner, where they were almost eclipsed by taller, shinier, corporate offices. Despite their impressive, ever-growing numbers and statistics, Vyv refused to move their office into a bigger building.

“My ancestor once ran this company on the cliffside of Lestallum, most often under fire from the empire,” Vyv would always say. “Besides, I hate all the snooty behavior that comes from those stiffy buildings. Nah, we’re fine right here.”

During those rants, Prompto always wanted to point out that Vyv’s ancestor had never really “been under fire” from the Empire, as MTs normally left civilians alone unless said civilians were in league with the then crown prince, but, well. Those thoughts were normally better to keep to himself, less he attracted unsavory attention.

As he exited the office, he noticed the navy-blue car, an expensive model that had a few patrons from the diner murmur to one another in excitement, that waited, idle, by the curb. Prompto stomped down the initial surge of irritation and sighed. Before he could take three steps forward, however, the driver hopped out of the car and walked around it and opened the backseat door.

“Evenin’, Prompto,” said Biggs.

At least, Prompto thought to himself, the man stopped called him “sir”.

(Prompto was too young to be called ‘sir’, let’s be real here.)

“Biggs,” Prompto said, almost pouting, “You don’t have to drive me everywhere, you know? I can walk.”

“I know,” said Biggs, and that was the end of their conversation.

 Prompto sighed and busied himself by flipping through his camera. Photos of the blooming nightlife in Insomnia, and regular, day-to-day activities from random people, as well as a few sceneries here and there, greeted him as he idly looked through his gallery. He had plans to transfer his newest pictures onto his flash drive, ever paranoid that something would happen if he only had one copy.

Most of the drive was filled in silence, the radio a soft, almost inaudible, hum. Prompto watched the various districts they had drove through and tried not to think about how easily they had all crumbled under the destructive nature of daemons, once upon a time.

“Will you be going to your apartment, Prompto?” asked Biggs as they reached a bustling street. “Or shall I take ya to the Main House?”

“My apartment, please,” said Prompto, almost wincing at the mention of the Main House.

It wasn’t really the “Main House” in the sense that it was where Prompto had grown up — no, _that_ house was back home in Cavaugh — but it was the Argentum’s “Main House” in all of Lucis. Although Prompto had grown up in houses that were practically mansions, he had always preferred smaller places like, for instance, his apartment.

Biggs dropped him off with little fanfare, and Prompto settled into his apartment for another night spent with a blank canvas and a mind bursting of people he hadn’t yet met.

 

* * *

 

 

Prompto was five when his memories returned. It didn’t happen all at once, but it was a gradual process as he grew older. In the beginning, he assumed they were dreams—vivid, bright dreams; sometimes full of laughter and delight, and sometimes full of a dark bitterness and grief that would wake him with half a sob under his tongue.

Young as he was, Prompto didn’t have a firm grasp on his reality. “He’s just stuck in the clouds,” many a relative would say with a chuckle; and it seemed like Prompto had one foot in his reality, and the other in his previous life. His mother simply said he had a big imagination, and then pressed a sketchbook into his hands when the family doctor suggested giving him a creative outlet.

It worked.

Color bloomed from his fingertips. While he longed for something solid (like a camera), paint, markers, and the like suited him well. Prompto poured out his emotions – the frustration he felt at the perplexing dichotomy between what was his present and past, the grief that sometimes consumed him when he remembered people he hadn’t met, the happiness and love that mostly entwined with his grief – onto the sketchbook, filling its’ pages with sketches and portraits and canvases of people he shouldn’t know, places he hadn’t traveled, but would set his art supplies down and feel lighter than before.

He didn’t let anyone see inside his sketchbooks. The images were too personal, too emotional, for him to explain to others.

Around the time he entered high school, his memories solidified. They weren’t as dreamlike as before, but Prompto knew they were memories instead of manifestations of his unconscious. He knew the people he dreamed of, _remembered,_ were once solid and warm underneath his fingers, laughed brightly under the clear, summer sky.

The most obvious explanation was, of course, reincarnation, and Prompto would spend countless nights wondering if the people he remembered would remember him, if they would know his name and his face like he knew theirs; etched into his mind for eternity. Those nights, he would wake abruptly to find his hands splayed out and reaching the empty spaces around him, searching desperately for that comforting, familiar warmth.

Those nights would leave a horrible coldness sinking into his chest, and a near irresistible, invisible tug that begged him to follow. He would have, but his attentive and protective family would’ve made such a decision difficult.

 A direct contrast to the sometimes unbearably cold and lonely childhood he had in his previous life, Prompto grew up surrounded by love and care. He lived in a small, independent country nestled on the seaside of Cavaugh, and his needs and wants were met almost instantly given that he had been born in a rich and influential family. He wasn’t spoiled, per se, but he knew that if he truly wanted something, he wouldn’t have to pile himself with stress and three jobs like he had to before.

Although bright and bubbly, Prompto was a reserved child. He had to be, given the things he knew and wasn’t supposed to know. Prompto, by default, was a private person. Whether he had a tattoo on his wrist or not, he mostly held his secrets close to his chest. Of course, many would think otherwise given his penchant to babble about everything under the sun, his eyes wide and full of his emotions. Only a few were privy to his inner most secrets and desires, to the sometimes-worrisome thoughts that sift in his mind.

Regardless of his quiet nature, Prompto grew up knowing he had a place to call home.

Halfway through sophomore year of high school, bored and in need of excitement that wouldn’t make his family homeschool him, Prompto delved back into social media, mainly Twitter, Tumblr, and Instagram. On Tumblr and Instagram, he posted his pictures and art, and on twitter (and, sometimes, on Tumblr), he would post jokes and witty lines that would normally make his cousins roll their eyes at him in amusement.

Somehow, somewhere along the line, Prompto became a well-known name on social media. It made him a little nervous at times, given his need for privacy, but he had always been one to roll with the punches.

Once he graduated high school, one of his older cousins pulled him aside and asked him where he wanted to go, if there was a subject or trade he wished to pursue, and Prompto was ready. He pulled out pamphlets and checklists for a prestigious university in Insomnia (his family would’ve accepted nothing less) and would’ve gotten on his knees and begged if his family wanted him to attend someplace closer.

Initially, his decision was met with concern. Most of them revolved around the fact that there was no family in Insomnia, only an empty vacation home, and there was little security in case something happened, but quite a few questions arose as to _why_. To his family, Prompto rarely expressed a desire to leave the country, save for the odd vacation here and there, but he managed to ease their worries when he cited his want for exploring and learning new cultures (never mind that Prompto had already lived and loved Lucis, and inevitably watched it shrivel before his eyes _twice_ ), and had “absolutely fallen in love” with their fine arts program.

The entire family was involved with the debate about his choice in University, and Prompto was a little indignant at their scrutiny and protectiveness but the warmth and love he felt for them overrode any negativity. Before, only three people really cared that much about Prompto, and there was still a chance that they didn’t even know his name.

The argument was resolved when two of his cousins came forth with their plans of opening a new branch of their business in Insomnia, dubbed a world center of business and culture, and that’s that. Prompto applied and got admitted, and, four weeks later, boarded a plane that would take him to a city he once watched crumble under Niflheims’ feet.

His parents were quite distrustful of dorm halls, regardless of the universities’ stellar reputation, and bought him an apartment in a complex that was a five-minute walk away from campus. His cousins decided to live in the vacation house they owned on the outskirts of Insomnia, nestled in a district that the Old Wall once cut through.

 

* * *

 

When Prompto had stepped off the plane, it was as if he never left.

 

* * *

 

It took him half a day to refamiliarize himself with Insomnia. Most of the streets and districts were direct mirrors of his previous life, but there were enough changes and shifts that Prompto needed a tourist map to maneuver around once he finished unpacking.

He had found it a little ironic, somewhat poetic, that he had ended up living in the same apartment complex as Noctis, once upon a time.

For the rest of his first month back in Lucis, Prompto readjusted to the heartbreakingly familiar hustle and bustle that made Insomnia _Insomnia._ While there was no wall surrounding the city anymore, it retained its’ gorgeous beauty; all wrapped in steel and glass that glittered underneath the afternoon sun.

When Prompto acquainted himself with his neighbors, he almost gave himself a premature heart attack once he knew who lived on his floor. An old lady, who owned what looked like forty dogs, lived across from him and gave Prompto a knitted beanie that smelled like chocolate and warm, winter nights; a lesbian couple lived next door, and looked vaguely familiar and agreed that Prompto was “as cute as a button”; and Nyx Ulric, nestled in the apartment by the emergency exit. It didn’t look like he lived by himself, given the cacophony of noise that drifted out of his opened door when Prompto went by to introduce himself.

“Good to see a new face around here,” said Nyx, with a smile that crinkled his eyes; amusement clouding blue irises. “I’ll see you around, though; I’ve got something on the stove.”

Prompto nodded and waved; drifted back inside his apartment where he opened his sketchbook and spilled his heart out onto its’ pages.

 

* * *

 

 Prompto had settled into the college scene almost seamlessly. His anxiety hadn’t been as debilitating as they used to, and while social interactions sometimes made Prompto want to bury himself into the ground, he wasn’t as awkward as he’d thought. The speech class his parents pushed him into helped, for the most part.

Prompto was pretty sociable, regardless, a kind face always ready to lend a hand. As a result, he was quite a familiar face on campus even though he wasn’t a residential student and had a good group of friends he could trust. He had people to talk to, and hang out with after classes, so Prompto was doing well.

He could be doing _better,_ he knew, but his friends and acquaintances, even, at times, his family, weren’t enough to make Prompto feel as though he were missing parts of his soul.

Settled into his favorite corner of the library, Prompto attempted to push through a few practice sets for his algebra class before he switched to his intro to psych course. But he found himself distracted, almost restless and jittery, and he worried his bottom lip and sighed.

A pen poked his wrist, and he jolted.

“You good?” it was Cindy, a friend and fellow sufferer of their organic chemistry class. “How ‘bout you take a walk outside? By the lake?”

“Are you sure?” Prompto asked, but he was already on his feet.

“Positive as ever, sug’,” said Cindy, her smile kind and warm. “Be safe, now.”

“I’ll be back soon,” said Prompto, and then, before he knew it, he bustled out of the library and looped around the back to the path that led to the small lake on campus.

Prompto followed that persistent tug from his chest, a familiar warmth that guided him to an almost secluded section of the quad. An incessant buzz curled in his veins, an ever-present hum that made Prompto restless and think, for the smallest of moments, that he was going to be attacked.

And then his gaze fell onto the figure leaning against the wall, eyebrows furrowed together in concentration, a campus map crinkled in their hands. Their bookbag was a dismayed lump perched by their feet. Noctis looked the same as ever: beautiful, in that lazy, regal way. 

The rest of the world faded from his view.

Prompto’s throat constricted, and the only reason why he didn’t burst into tears at that moment was because there was always the chance, that little risk, that Noctis wouldn’t remember him.

“Need any help?” Prompto asked, taking a few steps closer; his tone light and friendly. “You, uh, look a bit lost.”

“Gods, yes, please,” Noctis rushed out, relief eminent in his voice. “I’m trying to find the Hall of—,” he stopped, words shriveling in his throat, and did a double-take that almost made Prompto wince.

Prompto could pinpoint the exact moment Noctis realized who he was. He could talk about the way Noctis’s eyes widened, the way his expresion melted to reveal a maelstrom of hope and love and a mix of emotions, both negative and light, that correctly mirrored Prompto’s own emotional state. Hell, Prompto could even ponder on the words that escaped Noctis’s mouth as he moved forward, a desperate, aching cry that belonged to that of a dying soldier.

But what Prompto did know was this: Noctis all-but tackled him to the ground, the grass wet underneath them due to the morning rain shower, face pressed against the curve of his neck, gasping his name like a man deprived. Prompto’s laugh floated in the air as he moved them upright, curled one hand in Noctis’s hair, and laced their fingers together with the other, and whispered a greeting that made them both spiral into half-sobs, half-laughs:

_“I’m home, Noct.”_

* * *

 

In their previous life, Prompto was one of the last faces Noctis had seen.

In this one, he was the first.

 

* * *

 

They stay in that little spot, curled into one another, limbs entangled, until Prompto’s phone buzzed with three messages from Cindy. He looked up and noticed that the sun had all but disappeared and cursed under his breath.

“Everything okay?” Noctis asked, eyebrows furrowed together in concern.

“Yeah,” said Prompto. “I kinda left my study buddy for a bit, so she’s asking me if I’m good.” A sliver of guilt swam across the bridge of Noctis’s nose, and Prompto wasn’t having it. “It’s fine,” he assured, and then, with a burst of spontaneity, pecked Noctis’s nose. “Cindy’s chill, and she knew I was having trouble concentrating anyway.”

“Cindy?” Noctis blinked. “Wait. _Cid’s_ granddaughter, that Cindy?”

“One and only,” Prompto murmured as he thumbed a response. _I’m okay! sorry I bumped into an old friend and got distracted!_

“How’s she doing?”

“Still insane about cars,” Prompto said with a laugh; it was light, and airy, and carried itself through the wind. “She’s double-majoring in both business and engineering.”

Noctis’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. “How is she alive?”

Prompto shrugged and, after another minute or so, started to stand. “Come on, Noct. I gotta grab my stuff before Cindy sells it on eBay or something.”

Noctis laughed, but acquiesced, and slung his bag over his shoulder. Before Prompto could say another word, Noctis entwined their fingers together and squeezed. “This okay?” he murmured into Prompto’s ear, who shivered, but nodded.

“Completely, 100 percent okay,” said Prompto, a heated flush rising from his neck. “No complaints from me.”

Their walk back to the library was filled with comfortable silence. Sometimes, they passed by some people Prompto knew, and while he waved and smiled at them in greeting, he didn’t really engage in conversation. He did note, in the back of his mind, that most of them stared at the way he held hands with Noctis.

“Someone’s popular,” Noctis teased when Prompto waved to the fourth group of people who called his name. “So, you’re the pretty busybody everyone’s talking about, huh?”

Prompto laughed, a little bashful, and said, “I don’t think so. I just—like to be friendly, you know? Also, I’m in a lot of clubs, so…”

Noctis hummed and, when Prompto glanced at him, was staring at him with a soft, fond look in his eyes that made Prompto want to pull him into a long, melting kiss. But didn’t, because they were in public. When they reached Cindy, she quirked an eyebrow at their clasped hands but didn’t comment on it like some of his friends had previously.

“I gotta night lab,” she sighed, shoving her books into her bag, “so I’m ‘fraid we can’t do our normal run to that smoothie place today.”

“It’s fine,” Prompto said, and hugged her. “Have fun.”

“No promises, honey.” Cindy grimaced, and then looked at Noctis. “Nice to meet ya, I’m Cindy.” She held out her hand.

Noctis fumbled but shook it. “N-Noctis.”

“Take care, you two,” said Cindy after she finished collecting her things. Before she left, though, she levered a stare at Prompto that said, _we’ll talk later,_ and Prompto shivered again; this time out of fear for that upcoming chat.

Cindy could be quite terrifying when she wanted to be.

“Do you want to keep studying?” asked Noctis as he settled himself where Cindy had sat.

Prompto shook his head. “No, I’m done for the day.”

Noctis tapped his chin. “Are you hungry?”

“Gods, yeah,” Prompto said.

Noctis smiled. “Pack up, it’ll be my treat.”

 

* * *

 

Noctis settled back into Prompto’s life as if he had been there from the beginning, and Prompto wouldn’t have had it any other way. But still.

The puzzle isn’t complete.

Not yet.

 

* * *

 

“Technically,” Prompto said a week after their reunion, Noctis lounging on his arm chair with Kings’ Knight opened on his phone. “ _Technically_ , I’m not supposed to give this to you. But.”

Noctis raised an eyebrow and sat upright, immediately curious. “But?”

Prompto didn’t reply, only pressed a black key in Noctis’s hands. Noctis blinked at it for a moment, puzzled and quiet, before it clicked, and his eyes snapped to Prompto’s, who smiled sheepishly. “You’re always gonna be welcomed here,” Prompto smiled. “So, uh. Yeah. A key.”

“Prompto…” Noctis whispered. He held the key like it was precious; something breakable and ancient.

Prompto swallowed, suddenly nervous. “W-What? Do – do you not want it? A-Am I moving too fast—I’m not making you uncomfortable, right—?”

Noctis swallowed the rest of his words with an open-mouthed kiss that made Prompto’s bones nearly liquidate. His arms wrapped around Prompto’s waist in a secure grip, and Prompto would’ve stayed in that position forever had he not needed to breathe.

“I’d give you a key too, but, well I don’t think that’s legal since I live in a dorm,” said Noctis, after a few heavy, panting moments. His eyes were dark, and the sight of them made Prompto’s throat horribly dry.

And then he snorted. “While a contraband key is romantic, please don’t, like, get arrested.”

The edges of Noctis’s lips quirked. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

Once Noctis placed his new key with the rest of his keys, Prompto drifted to his incomplete canvas and reached for one of his pencils. The rest of the world fell from existence, little by little, after that. When he comes back to himself, drawn out of his creative daze, his apartment was quiet. His phone blinked with an unread message from Noctis.

_You seemed pretty focused, so I didn’t wanna bother you, but I have a class in the morning, so I left._

Prompto hummed and sent a response back, hoping he had gotten back to campus safely. Although the walk from his apartment to the university was a quiet five-minute trail, it was better to be safe than sorry.

He looked back at his canvas, and almost smiled. It had blossomed into a partial portrait of a lazy evening in Duscae, the edge of a haven in the distance, and Prompto could almost smell the beginnings of Ignis’ cooking, could almost hear Gladio setting up the camping gear, and Noctis lightly steering him towards another game of Kings Knight and _they just did an update, let’s check it out_ —

Prompto breathed through the sudden pain in his chest, a knot of grief and pain and decades old love, and reminded himself, gently, that Noctis was _here_ , that he _remembered,_ and that it was going to be alright because he wasn’t alone anymore and

and a very tiny part of Prompto murmured, _but what if Gladio and Ignis don’t remember? What will you do then?_

Prompto wasn’t sure he had an answer to that.

 

* * *

 

“I’m going to drop out,” Noctis muttered into the table. Prompto hummed and marked another sentence in green. “Didja hear me? I’m droppin’ out, and I’m gonna, like, I dunno, flip pizza signs for a living.”

“That’s nice,” said Prompto, more focused on his textbook. “I know a great pizza place downtown.”

Noctis blew a raspberry in reply.

A month passed since their reunion, and it passed in the blissful happiness only a couple in love could experience. Noctis was a regular, daily sight in his life (and apartment), and his friends took his sudden appearance in stride. Though, Prompto still shuddered in remembrance of Cindy’s mischievous grin when she had cornered him for a talk.

“I’m hungry,” said Noctis, and poked the crook of Prompto’s elbow.

“There are snacks in the cupboard, so pick your poison,” Prompto replied, but instead of returning to his textbook, his eyes wandered and watched Noctis rummage through his kitchen for something to eat. And then, he looked around the rest of his apartment.

Most of Noctis’ things were in Prompto’s apartment, like his textbooks and bookbag, and most of his clothes were in Prompto’s closet and dresser. His half-finished sculpture for his art class was proudly brandished on the coffee table, right next to a few flyers and pamphlets from previous school events and student organizations.

If Prompto were to go into the kitchen, he’d find brands of snacks and drinks that Noctis enjoyed. If he went into the bathroom, he’d find another toothbrush, body wash and hair products that only Noctis used. Noctis moved into his apartment a little more day by day, but Prompto didn’t mind it (in fact, he kind of wishes Noctis would just completely move in already).

 

* * *

The call came suddenly, on a Friday evening. He stepped out onto the back porch to answer it, Noctis more focused on his homework.

(It wasn’t sudden, not really. Prompto expected it to happen soon, but that didn’t mean he wanted it to.)

“I want to meet him.”

Prompto’s mouth dried. “M-Meet who?”

“You know who,” said Cor from the other end. “The kid who’s practically living with you at your apartment. Did you give him a key?”

Prompto didn’t answer. Cor took that as an affirmative.

  _“Prompto.”_

He winced. “Sorry, Cor.”

Cor snorted. “You aren’t. Anyway, I want to meet him. We can have lunch tomorrow.”

“Okay, but…one condition,” Prompto started, and waited for Cor’s responding hum. “Let him meet my uncle, not the head of my, uh, security team, you know? I don’t, um, want him to freak out.”

“Alright, fine.” There was a pause. “He doesn’t know who you are, does he?”

Prompto side-eyed Noctis through the glass door that separated the living room from the back porch and chewed on his bottom lip. “Um. No.”  

“You’re gonna have to tell him sometime, kid.”

“I know.”

“Tomorrow at eleven, don’t be late,” said Cor, and promptly hung up the phone.

Prompto walked back to Noctis in a stiff gait similar to a death march, and said, ominously, “My uncle wants to meet you.”

Noctis choked on his sandwich. “Wh-What?”

“He, um, noticed you being, uh, around a lot,” Prompto replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, we’re going to have lunch with him tomorrow. At eleven.”

Noctis blinked. “Who’s your uncle? Someone from our previous life?”

“It’s Cor.”

Noctis froze. It looked like his soul left his body.

“N-Noct?”

“He’s going to kill me.”

 

* * *

Despite their worries, lunch went well. Cor didn’t threaten Noctis, thankfully, though he did imply that unpleasant things would happen should Noctis ever do anything to hurt Prompto. They decided to walk back to the apartment from the café, but halfway there they were stopped by a pained whine. Prompto looked down, and barely resisted gasping aloud. A suspiciously familiar dog crept closer, on hesitant feet, and whined once more. The dog was so familiar, so striking to another Prompto had once rescued, that he almost expected to see Lady Lunafreya appear, Gentiana only a few feet away. Almost instantly, Prompto lathered the dog in affection, and received quiet barks and licks as a reward.

“Aren’t you a cutie?” Prompto gushed, and the dog barked. “Such a good dog!”

“There’s no collar,” said Noctis after he checked, and petted the dog as well. “Do you know where the vet is?”

“There’s one by the apartment,” Prompto said after a pause.

An hour later, Noctis and Prompto were the proud co-owners of a cheerful miniature golden retriever.

“She’s healthy, thankfully,” the vet had told them after they registered Tiny. “I can register her with you here, if y’all want. Looks like a stray, this little one, but it wouldn’t hurt to put up some flyers here and there to see if she _does_ have an owner waiting for her back home.”

They walked a few more blocks, Tiny secure and sleepy in Prompto’s arms, when Noctis paused and said, with the dawning realization of what they had just done, “Prompto. We don’t have anything for a dog.”

Prompto blinked, and then looked down at Tiny as she yawned. “Fuck.”

“Fuck, indeed,” said Noctis, and then grinned. “Do you know what that means?”

“Please don’t get us banned from PetSmart,” Prompto said as soon as he caught sight of the smile. “I will, literally, never forgive you.”

“I’m not going to do anything!”

Prompto side-eyed him in obvious suspicion but decided to trust his boyfriend.

They didn’t get banned from PetSmart, thankfully.

They went into the store intent on buying all of the essentials Tiny needed to live comfortably, and while they left with those items, they also left with a plus one.

Noctis decided to buy a turtle.

“Hey, he was _lonely_ ,” Noctis protested under Prompto’s stare.

“Oh, so you can talk to sea animals now, huh?” Prompto teased.

“Of course,” Noctis replied, a haughty sniff, before he pouted. “He was all alone, I couldn’t just leave him.”

“Of course, you couldn’t,” said Prompto, unbearably fond. Tiny squirmed in his arms, and he set her down, making sure her leash and harness were secure enough. “What’s his name?”

“Voldemort.”

Prompto didn’t speak for a good couple of minutes as they waited for Biggs. Once he gathered his thoughts, he said, deadpan, “I want a divorce.”

Noctis only laughed.

 

* * *

 

November approached quietly, though there was nothing _quiet_ about Prompto’s apartment anymore. Thrown into the hustle of approaching finals, their weekdays were filled student events and group projects. As Prompto watched Noctis bemoan and consider mutiny over his various group assignments, he was relieved that he had been able to skip out of his general education requirements by the skin of his teeth due to his AP credits.

“You’re so mean to me,” Noctis grumbled, and then made grabby hands at Prompto, who snorted.

“Someone’s a big baby,” said Prompto.

Noctis only stuck out his tongue and proceeded to ignore the world by cuddling Prompto on the couch. After she took a few sips of water, Tiny joined them on the cough and curled up against Noctis’s other side.  

“This is the life,” murmured Noctis.

Prompto hummed in agreement, idly playing with Noctis’s fingers, and soaked in the warmth and contentment he experienced in that moment. His gaze caught sight of his other blank canvas for his collection, and his thoughts drifted downward for a moment. Noctis seemed to sense the shift in his mood and hummed.

“Prom?”

“Hmm?”

“What’s on your mind?”

Prompto gathered his thoughts, pondering on his words, before he said, “Noct…do you think Gladdy and Iggy remember us? Like, our relationship and everything that happened?”

Noctis traced a pattern absentmindedly on Prompto’s forearm, causing him to shiver. “I think they do.”

“But what if they don’t?” Prompto found himself whispering. “What if they just, just think we’re these weird strangers, and—.”

“Prompto.”

Tiny huffed when Noctis moved, but neither payed her any mind. Noctis held Prompto closer, their noses almost touching, his gaze soft and warm, but holding the same worries as Prompto.

“No matter what happens with Iggy or Gladio,” Noctis started. “You aren’t alone anymore. We’ll get through it together.”

“Ever at my side?” Prompto teased, and a soft grin slipped over Noctis’s mouth as he captured Prompto’s lips in a kiss. Tiny let out a snore.

“Always.”


	2. ii. what you can trust is that i need your touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not own Final Fantasy XV. All rights reserved to its’ creator, Square Enix. No copyright infringement intended. No money is being made from this work. This is purely for entertainment purposes.
> 
> Enjoy! Let me know what you think in a comment below!

_i’ma scream and shout for what i love_  
_passionate, but i don’t give no fucks_

needy – ariana grande

Prompto’s first kiss, in his previous life, wasn’t with Noctis or Gladiolus, contrary to popular belief. It was, in fact, with Ignis. Although he held his cards close, due to the nature of his career, Ignis loved with much more passion than most people, than _Gladio_ , even. The eve of Prompto’s twentieth birthday, he spent it in Noctis’ apartment, as usual, though the other had some sort of royal duty to attend with Gladio, leaving Prompto with Ignis.

As Prompto chatted away the silence like he usually did, he found Ignis staring at him in a soft, fond gaze as he prepared that nights’ dinner, and Prompto tilted his head and asked if there was something on his face. Ignis agreed that there was, and offered to remove it from him, and when Prompto gave an affirmative, gave him a kiss that still made Prompto’s knees weak when he thought about it.

(ignis always kissed prompto as if he would disappear within moments; long and passionate, a permanent memory etched into their skin.)

Prompto’s first kiss with Gladio was filled with adrenaline, the both of them high off endorphins after a successful battle through the Myrlwood. Prompto had been whirled around, and, high off endorphins, had pressed his lips against Gladio’s. The kiss had turned from chaste to lengthy, deepening until Noctis wolf-whistled and made a joke about a show.

He hummed, a finger brushing against his lips as he remembered—

A short honk pulled him out of his thoughts, and Prompto turned to see Biggs scowling at him through the opened passenger-side window. “Prompto,” said the man, a fierce look in his eyes. “You know you’re not supposed to walk about by yourself.”

Prompto pouted. “Biggs, I’m _fine!_ I’m just going to the park in a residential district; nothing’s going to happen.”

Biggs leveled an unimpressed look in his direction. “Get in the car.”

His pout deepened, but Prompto got in the car. He knew he’d get an earful from protective relatives if word reached them that Prompto took strolls throughout Insomnia by himself. If he were with Noctis or a group of friends, it would’ve been fine, but as Prompto was going to an appointment, he wasn’t going to bring anyone else along.

“Which district?” asked Biggs as he slowly peeled away from the curve.

With a slight grumble, Prompto told Biggs the address of his appointment. It was for a fourteen-year-olds’ birthday, and she wanted portraits of her in her dress in the park by her home. As Prompto had completed his previous assignments from Vyv, he was given this one. While there was nothing wrong about senior photos or birthday portraits, a part of Prompto wished for the excitement and sense of accomplishment that came with picking his way through Ravatough or a MT base for the sake of an aesthetic picture.

Prompto snorted quietly. He’d give all of Solheim a heart attack if he ever did that now.

Biggs pulled into the parking lot for the park within ten minutes. “Is there a time you want to be picked up?”

“I don’t know how long this’ll take,” said Prompto, “so two hours should be fine.”

“I’ll stay in the area, then,” said Biggs.

Prompto waved goodbye, made sure he had all his equipment, and headed towards the fountain in the middle of the park, where his customer had requested they meet. The park was beautiful and reminiscent of the royal gardens where he’d find Noctis napping on a bench, inexplicably surrounded by stray cats.

“Prompto Argentum?” said a voice by his elbow. “I’m your appointment!”

Prompto turned, smiled. And blinked.

Iris Amicitia grinned, almost blindingly, at him. “I’m Iris Amicitia!”

“Uh,” Prompto faltered for a moment before he grasped his bearings. “Yeah, nice to meet you!” Prompto’s eyes roamed the park. “Is your guardian here with you?”

As Iris was a minor, it was company policy (and law) that there be a trusted adult with her for their appointment.

“Yeah, but he stepped out to the corner store to get us some snacks,” Iris chirped, and then she hopped a little on her feet. “Oh! I wanted to tell you that I really, really love your blogs! And all your artwork and your collections, they’re amazing!”

“Thank you,” Prompto smiled. “Do you have a favorite?”

_Gods,_ Prompto thought to himself as he listened to Iris talk about her favorite collection, _was she always that tiny?_

When the world had seemingly ended, Prompto had seen little of Iris, only heard of her deeds through the rumors that rustled from Lestallum to Hammerhead. By the time Iris had become capable and hardened to earn her badass title of Daemon Slayer in a world of darkness, Prompto had all but carved his own place at Hammerhead and, therefore, rarely saw her.

(Prompto hoped that Iris did not know the pain and grief that she honed like a weapon in their previous life.)

As they chatted about a few more of Prompto’s collections, and Prompto showed her a few photos on his camera that he was going to upload later, Iris paused, her words breaking, and waved enthusiastically at an approaching figure.

When Prompto looked, his breath caught in his throat.

(Realistically, Prompto knew he would be able to meet Gladio now that he reunited with Iris, even if Iris didn’t remember who he was – who he used to be.

But that didn’t mean Prompto was _prepared_ to see Gladio alive and whole, looking like he hadn’t aged a day over twenty-four.)

Prompto held out his hand and smiled; bright enough to hide his emotions. “Nice to meet you, I’m Prompto Argentum, your photographer for today!”

Shadows flickered in Gladio’s dark eyes, an unfathomable something that made Prompto’s stomach churn (made him think he assumed wrong, and that Gladio _remembered_ —), but then Gladio blinked and smiled that smile that always made Prompto weak in the knees and shook his hand.

“Nice to meet you,” said Gladio. “Gladiolus Amicitia – thanks for comin’ out today.”

Iris quirked an eyebrow, the edge of her lip twitching, at Gladio’s friendliness. It wasn’t as if Gladio _wasn’t_ friendly to people; he was a sweetheart but being the future King’s Shield made him protective and suspicious of anyone who attempted to garner favor with him, always on the lookout for potential threats to Noctis even when he wasn’t involved.

Prompto had no idea what Gladio’s history was like now, in this life, but he hoped, like he did with Iris, that he hadn’t experienced the same grief and pain he had when he was a Shield.

“Just doing my job,” Prompto replied, and then looked at Iris. “You ready to start? Are their any filters you’d like to use or a look you want?”

Iris beamed and launched into specifics of what she’d like her birthday photos to look like. Normally, Prompto would’ve called the shots during an appointment, since most people didn’t really understand photography past the whole ‘press the button and look pretty’, but he’d always have a soft spot for Gladio’s little sister, birthday or not.

Gladio looked lost at the terminology that bounced between Prompto and Iris, but settled down by the bench where they placed their stuff to observe. Prompto ignored the prickling sensation at the back of his neck at the way Gladio’s eyes followed his movement.

“Thank you so much,” Iris all-but yelled once the appointment dwindled down, and Prompto started packing up his equipment.

“It’s not a problem,” Prompto chirped, and made sure his smile was bright and easy as Gladio stared at him. “Once I get these edited and developed, they will be emailed to you as soon as possible.”

Biggs drove him home in silence, only a quirked eyebrow at Prompto’s half-crumbled expression. Noctis was still in class once Prompto unlocked their front door, so Prompto curled around Tiny and cried himself to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Either by coincidence or some fucked up divine intervention, Prompto bumped into Gladio the day after they met (or, well, _re-met_ ). They were in the grocery store, of all places, and Prompto had three cans of ravioli in his basket (screw whatever his aunt would think about him buying “commoner’s food”, Chef Boyardee was heaven compared to what the schools’ cafeteria churned out to the masses).

Prompto didn’t live on campus, but even he was getting sick of their weird-tasting macaroni and cheese.

And the last time Noctis attempted to cook, he nearly burned the entire complex down. Suffice to say, the only thing his boyfriend was allowed to do in the kitchen was see if the water boiled or not.

“Ah,” said Gladio, blinking down at Prompto. “Mr., um, Argentum, hi.”

“ _Mr. Argentum?”_ Prompto sputtered after his brain rebooted from seeing Gladio in a dress shirt and slacks. “C-Call me Prompto, please. _Please._ ”

Gladio quirked his lips in silent amusement. “Sorry. Hi, Prompto.”

“Hey,” said Prompto, with a jaunty wave, and then his eyes dropped to the basket in Gladio’s hand. “Cup noodles, huh?”

Sheepishly, Gladio rubbed the back of his neck. “They’re great, okay? No judging.”

“No judgement here, big guy,” said Prompto, and the nickname slipped out of his mouth without him noticing it. When he did, though, a bitter ache spiraled through his chest that made him clench his jaw and breathe through clenched teeth to calm himself down. Wouldn’t do to have a breakdown in the middle of the grocery store, huh?

“Sorry,” said Gladio, his voice blank and unreadable. “Did…did you just call me _big guy?”_

Prompto, in a split second, decided to just say _fuck it_. “That depends.”

“On?” Gladio asked, an eyebrow raised.

Prompto worried his bottom lip and said, quietly, “On if you remember me or not.” The accompanying pause made Prompto look up, heart in his throat, in a silent panic that he had completely messed everything up, only to see Gladio swallowing tears, his eyes dark and heavy with emotions curled in the pit of Prompto’s stomach on a daily basis.

“Hey, there, blondie,” Gladio murmured.

Prompto gave a wet laugh. “Took you long enough, big guy.”

 

* * *

 

 

(what a sight they must’ve made. two grown adults breaking down right next to some cheerios.)

 

* * *

 

 

Prompto half-expected their reunion to be soulful, filled with a crescendo of violins and pianos, and slow-motion movement before a long, passionate embrace. _And yet,_ Prompto thought to himself as he observed Gladio’s and Noctis’s reunion from the kitchen, Tiny parked by his feet for scraps, _I wouldn’t change this for a second._

“Alright, alright, break it up,” Prompto said, laughing at Noctis’ disgruntled look at being interrupted, and rose the tray of sandwiches he’d made. “I have food, so eat up!”

They dug into the food with gusto, and while they weren’t supposed to, Tiny got a few scraps here and there.

“Place looks familiar as hell,” said Gladio as he finished eating, and Prompto shared an amused look with Noctis.

“Considering this was, once upon a time, my apartment,” Noctis said, “I should hope that it’s familiar.”

Gladio snorted. “Who would’ve thought?”

Tiny barked, suddenly at Gladio’s side, her eyes fixed on the plate. Gladio petted her in response.

“Who’s this?”

“Tiny,” said Prompto, and then motioned to the tank against the wall. “That’s Voldemort.”

Gladio stared, and Voldemort continued to sleep, unbothered. Noctis threw a crumbled napkin at Gladio’s face and grumbled, “Leave him alone, okay? He was _lonely.”_

“Sure, sweetie,” Prompto sighed, and then squealed when Noctis tickled his side. “No fair, you ass!”

“Everything’s fair in love and war,” Noctis replied.

 The small tickle fight dissolved into an epic pillow fight, with Tiny barking and scrambling in between their feet, and as their shrieks and laughter ended, Gladio’s phone cut through the air in a sharp tone. As he reached for his phone, Prompto disentangled himself from Noctis’ limbs and stretched. Noctis made a noise of protest at the lack of warmth and huffed in discontent.

“Duty calls,” said Gladio as he checked his phone. “Gotta pick up Iris from school – she has a fever.”

A distressed noise slipped out of Prompto’s mouth. “Is she okay? Is the fever bad?”

“Yeah, she’s alright,” Gladio soothed. “But she’s feeling dizzy, so the nurse thinks it’s better for her to be home right now.”

“Well, don’t let us keep you waiting,” Noctis said, and with that they both shooed a bemused Gladio out of the door. “Give us updates, okay?”

“I will,” said Gladio, something soft and warm in his eyes that made Prompto’s heart skip a beat in his chest.

A stark silence descended in Prompto’s home a few minutes after Gladio left. Noctis busied himself by idly flicking through channels on the TV and Prompto drifted to the area where his art supplies and the like were set up. He had managed to complete three portraits for his collection, and he needed seven more for it to be finished.

As he lightly sketched out an idea on the canvas, focus narrowed onto his task, he noticed the way Noctis would glance at him every now and then; head tilted in a curious manner. “Need something?” Prompto asked.

Noctis shrugged. “What’re you drawing?”

Warmth spread over the bridge of his nose, and Prompto ducked his head; almost uncharacteristically shy. “Um, just a painting about, you know, scenery and everything.”

Noctis quirked an eyebrow, but sensed Prompto’s unwillingness to discuss his artwork quickly. “Have fun,” he said, though his voice was fond and a touch concerned. “Don’t forget to eat, though, okay?”

Prompto stuck his tongue out. “That was one time!”

“Uh huh,” said Noctis, and shared a disbelieving look with Tiny.

Prompto huffed, but the smile on his lips wiped away any thought that he was annoyed.

 

* * *

 

chikorita asked you: u should come take photos of duscae! alstor slough is beautiful in the evening

 

> it’s on my bucket list dw
> 
> #prompto answers #chikorita #i will get around to it. eventually. 

 

* * *

 

Like Noctis, Gladio slipped into his life as though he had always been there. In a way, it was true. Gladio, Ignis, and Noctis always had a place in Prompto’s life, whether in spirit or otherwise. Although Gladio couldn’t live with Prompto like Noctis did, he was given a key to Prompto’s apartment. He knew Cor would give him hell over it, but Prompto honestly didn’t care.

(it wasn’t as if Cor would do anything, really, as it was well-known throughout their country that Prompto had Cor wrapped around his finger since his birth)

Before him, Cor pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re breaking many security protocols, Prompto,” he said, and Prompto rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry,” Prompto said, though they were both well aware of how not-sorry Prompto was.

Cor huffed. “Should I expect another key to be made?”

Prompto’s sheepish smile told him all he needed to know.

Cor only sighed.

Iris was a regular sight at his apartment as well, and while there were some things she remembered, her memory of her past life had a lot of holes. “Most of it is just really vague,” she’d explained when Prompto made a curious noise, and shrugged. “I don’t really want to remember all of it, you know? Living for so long in the dark like that…” she trailed off and shuddered, and Prompto felt so bad about drudging up unwanted emotions that he gave her two servings of hot chocolate.

The beginnings of winter swept through Insomnia, and the city burst with wintry furor. Prompto took advantage of the cold, and cuddled with Noctis and Gladio every moment he was able to, but it wasn’t as if they were complaining.

After he updated his social media a bit, interacting with those who mentioned him or replied to his posts (Prompto hesitated to call them his “fans,” as he didn’t think he had much to be famous for, except for those pesky little things he couldn’t really help), his cousin texted him about dinner.

>   _W_ _e know you’re not busy, so get ready!_

Prompto rolled his eyes with a smile but acquiesced to the demand.

Noctis gave him a curious look from where he was attempting to coax Tiny into a pose for a selfie. “Where are you going?”

“Lunch with my cousins,” Prompto replied as he rummaged through his closet for something expensive-looking. Knowing his cousin, she would choose a venue that wouldn’t let you enter unless you dressed as though you were about to step foot onto the Red Carpet, he dug out one of his nicer slacks and dress shirts. As an afterthought, he grabbed a stylish tie and jacket, and dressed.

Noctis whistled from the bed, and Prompto rolled his eyes.

“Someone’s fancy,” said Noctis. “Well, have fun. Tiny and I are gonna watch funny cat videos.”

Prompto pouted, though, in the back of his mind, he noted the irony of a dog watching videos of cats on his owner’s phone.

 

* * *

 

Before he was able to ground himself in his reality, there were moments where he confused events that happened in his previous life with his present. A small fact of life that constantly flummoxed him as a preteen was that, although she had been born in the family villa in Tenebrae, Lunafreya lived in Altissia. She was no longer an Oracle, nor was she in an arranged marriage, but, instead, Prompto’s older cousin who was very much like an older sister to him.

“Oracle?” one of his aunts had laughed. “Why, what an imagination you have, Prompto! There’s no such thing, sweetie, though Lunafreya _does_ act like an Oracle would, I suppose.”

_No such thing? What do you mean ‘no such thing’?_ Prompto would want to screech, but as he scoured countless history textbooks and researched internet forums, it seemed he had been reborn in a decade where his original life was thought of as a timeless child’s story.

A part of him wanted to be outraged. Prompto had loved, and bled, and grieved, and sacrificed his life for a King who sacrificed for _all_ , and all their efforts had only caused them to be known as a bedtime story? It seemed sacrilegious.

But Prompto shook off his anger with the ensuing thoughts of seeing Noctis, Ignis, and Gladio again; this time, without a prophecy breathing down their necks.

This time, they would love in peace.

 

* * *

 

 

After his lunch with Luna and Crowe (and getting interrogated about Noctis and Gladio), he received a phone call from Vyv.

“I got a job for you, kid,” was the greeting.

“Sweet,” said Prompto. “What’s it about?”

“One of the customers wants a scenic shot of Galdin Quay at sunrise and sunset,” Vyv explained. “Think you can handle it?”

“Of course!”

When he informed the others of his job and weekend plans, Noctis perked up. “I’m going with you,” he declared. “So’s Tiny. It’ll be, like, a family vacation.”

Prompto snorted, and then teased, “What a vacation, huh?”

Noctis threw one of the many small pillows on the couch at him, and Prompto laughed. It was settled, then, that they’d travel to Galdin Quay Friday night so that Prompto would be able to get pics at dawn and evening. Prompto let Cor know what his plans were, and they were all set.

Galdin Quay almost looked like a dream.

Noctis struggled to gather himself for a moment, breathing in a shuddery, rasping breath that made Tiny whine in concern.

“We got this,” said Prompto, fingers gripping Noctis’s tightly. “You okay?”

Noctis nodded, took a breath, and hopped out of the car. “I’m going fishing,” he said, grabbing his tools, feet bouncing softly in excitement.

Prompto could only smile. “Have fun, buddy.”

Noctis set off towards the dock, and Tiny followed him, tail waggling, tongue lolling. Struck by the scene, Prompto lifted his camera and took a picture of Noctis and Tiny, Galdin Quay sparkling around them, and felt something tight in his throat.

_Now, we just need Iggy,_ he thought to himself. _And we’ll find him_.

“Noctis always did prefer Galdin to the other fishing spots in Lucis.”

“Yeah,” said Prompto, as he flicked through camera settings and pondered what would be the best filter for this assignment, and then he froze. He would’ve dropped his camera had a slender hand not steadied it as it threatened to tip. Prompto turned, and his eyes widened. “Ignis…”

Ignis smiled, bright and soft and oh so familiar. From the docks, Tiny barked, splashing in the water, and Noctis’ laughter floated to their ears.

“Hello, my dear,” said Ignis, quietly.

The final piece pressed into it’s place, and Prompto, finally, breathed with ease.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took so long, i was very sick recently.

**Author's Note:**

> So, I’m messing around with some of the geography and doing my own world-building thing. This takes place in the very distant future, where what happened in the game is really thought of as like a child’s story, and it’s also a fusion of, like, real-world places and things, and the game. 
> 
> And i know that Solheim is technically Niflheim, but for this storys’ purpose, it isn’t.


End file.
